


He can't change his stripes (you know these outsider types)

by unfroyharper



Series: Like The Dawn [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Not Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 08:18:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8005423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfroyharper/pseuds/unfroyharper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is Scorpius Malfoy's first year at Hogwarts, and his first time away from his family. Is he really ready, though? Are Draco and Astoria ready to let their little boy out of their direct protection?</p>
            </blockquote>





	He can't change his stripes (you know these outsider types)

**Author's Note:**

> Holy crap it's been a month I'm so sorry. Well, now that I've given you a taste of what's to come, it's time to go back to the beginning! And I'm switching tense on you, sorry, present just comes more naturally to me.

Scorpius fights back every urge to grab onto his mother’s hand as they walk out onto the train platform. None of the other boys are doing that. He doesn’t want to look like a baby. As though she can sense his struggle, she places a gentle hand on his shoulder, smiling as she draws his attention away from the crowd of strangers.

“I was so nervous for my first trip to Hogwarts.” She says, and it doesn’t sound at all like she’s saying _he’s_ nervous. He is though, and he’s certain she knows it.

It isn’t until they’ve stopped and his father is occupied with levitating his trunk into the appropriate train compartment that he replies, his voice soft.

“What if no one likes me?”

There is a flicker of heartbreak on his mother’s face but it smooths into an encouraging smile. She pulls him into a hug, his head tucking under her chin. “My darling Scorpius, anyone who takes the time to know you at all will definitely love you.”

It helps, but it also sort of feels like something she can only say because she _has_ to. She _is_ his mother, after all.

His father returns to them and Scorpius hugs him too. “I’m going to miss you.” He says to them both. He’s never been away from home without his parents, except to visit his grandparents in what used to be the summer cottage.

As always, his father is slightly more stilted with his emotions in public, but the slight upward tilt of his lips reaches his eyes well enough and he returns the hug. “Christmas holidays will be here before you know it, and then you’ll want nothing more than to go back to school.”

“And we can write whenever you’d like.” His mother chimes in. “We always want to hear from you.”

He smiles, feeling a little more encouraged. “I’ll write every day.”

“My sweet boy.” She smooths back his hair and kisses his forehead. “Hurry onto the train, dear, before your father decides he’ll miss you too much and takes you straight back home.”

That gets a quiet laugh from him, especially when his father starts to look like he’s actually considering it.

He’s actually starting to feel a little more hopeful. There had to be someone that would want to be friends with him, right? He’d never spent much time with other children, or even just people outside of his immediate family, but he’d spent so much time learning his manners, learning how to behave. That had to mean something.

Once on the train, he looks back at his parents one last time. They are smiling, his mother giving him a little wave while his father wraps an arm around her waist. Reassured, he returns to the task at hand; finding a compartment to sit in.

He manages to find an empty one, but just as the train begins to move, a group of older boys, already changed into their school robes, come in, the green of Slytherin House prominent among them.

The boy that came in first is tall and broad and he sneers once he catches sight of Scorpius. “Looks like the little Malfoy cockroach is finally here.”

The menace in his voice is so startling that Scorpius can’t respond.

“It’s _your family’s_ fault my dad’s in Azkaban, y’know.” The boy walks right up to him and drags him up from his seat by the shirt, towering above him. “Don’t you have anything to say about that?”

“I-- I’m sorry?” What can he say? He doesn’t even know who this boy _is_.

“You’re _sorry_?” He barks a laugh. “Oh, that just makes it all better, then, doesn’t it?”

The grip on his shirt is iron as he’s dragged towards the compartment door. The other boys part to let them through, all of them looking at him like he is trash, like he is worthless. He’s pushed to the ground of the hallway and tears start to prickle in his eyes.

“You’d better hope you don’t end up in Slytherin, _Malfoy_.” Scorpius has never heard his name sound like a curse before. “‘Cause I swear, I’ll make you wish you were born a squib.”

As the tears build up past the point of breaking, the boys start to laugh, mocking him for crying. He scrambles to his feet and runs towards the end of the train and into the tiny bathroom stall, their shouts following him.

The door locks. He can probably spend the rest of the train ride in there, right? There are other stalls for people to use. He curls up on the toilet, pressing his forehead to his knees and stifling a sob. He hasn’t even gotten to school yet and he already wants nothing more than to go back home.

 

* * *

 

“Scorpius Malfoy!”

He swallows roughly as his name is called, stepping up to the little stool the hat sat upon. Looking out at the other students in the Great Hall, many appear uninterested. They know what is going to happen.

So does he.

He would be sorted into Slytherin, into the same House as the older boy who’d promised to make his life hell on the train, and there wouldn’t be anywhere he could get away from him or his friends. As he picks up the hat and places it on his head, he resigns himself to his fate.

Uproarious laughter sounds and it takes him a moment to realize it is in his own head. He didn’t know the hat could _do_ that.

 _My my my, this_ **_is_ ** _an interesting year, isn’t it?_

‘What do you mean?’

 _You’re the first Malfoy I’ve ever Sorted that didn’t_ ** _want_** _to be in Slytherin. And I’ve Sorted them all!_

‘Well, I…’ He glances over at the table decked out in green and silver. ‘I don’t know if I want to _not_ be in Slytherin either.’

_Oh, I’m sure. Don’t want to disappoint, right? And you do certainly have the potential for it. Cunning, a deep but select loyalty… yet I think your talents may be better served elsewhere._

‘If not Slytherin, then where?’

_Curiosity, I see! Perhaps you’re not as opposed to the idea as you think! Cunning and wit often go hand in hand, after all.This generation is certainly making my job more interesting…_

_“RAVENCLAW!”_

The hat shouts it out and the silence following is near deafening. He stands carefully, placing the hat back on the stool, and walks quickly to the Ravenclaw table. One of the professors prompts a perfunctory round of applause. Some of his new housemates are curious, others openly disdainful. Most don’t even look at him.

The rest of the sorting and the following meal go by in a blur. Once he and all the other first years have been shown to the dorms, he finds a quiet spot by one of the windows to write his first letter home. He isn’t sure what his family’s reaction will be to this, but at least the view is breathtaking.

 

> _Dearest Mother and Father,_
> 
>  
> 
> _I am afraid to admit that today did not go as well as I had hoped. I did not meet any friends on the train, nor on the boats, nor during dinner. No one seems to particularly care for my presence._
> 
> _There is something else too._
> 
> _I will not be able to put to use any of the things you told me about living under the lake. Rather than showcasing the merfolk swimming by, the window in my dormitory looks out over the lake from above. I have been sorted into Ravenclaw._
> 
> _As always, I will do my best to make you proud._
> 
>  
> 
> _Your loving son,_
> 
> _Scorpius_

 

He folds the letter precisely and ties it to his owl’s leg. “Okay Cosmo, deliver it to Mum and Dad, please.”

The bird hoots haughtily.

“I know we just got here but I told Mum I’d write every day. I promise to give you lots of treats when you return, alright?”

Cosmo puffs out his feathers but the promise of treats agrees with him enough that he takes off. Scorpius watches him go, wishing he could just bundle himself up like a letter and be flown straight home.


End file.
